


Don't Rock the Boat

by threewalls



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Community: cottoncandy_bingo, Community: hc_bingo, Community: kink_bingo, Community: trope_bingo, M/M, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-04 19:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New clients are always unpredictable, but Jongin isn't usually this much at sea. Literally. (AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Rock the Boat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notaverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaverse/gifts).



> For Mec, because we both enjoy Jongin suffering. 
> 
> And for: Cotton Candy Bingo: "bad day," H/C bingo: "motion sickness", Kink Bingo: "vehicular", and Trope Bingo: "au: hooker".

Jongin doesn't get this client, which is never a good thing. They've had kimbap and soft drinks; the client offered Jongin a choice of drinks, but what kind of whore drinks alcohol when they won't have to? They're out on the water, shielded by the cruiser canopy from prying eyes -- which Jongin had thought was the point -- and all the client is doing is laughing at his own jokes, hands clapping, knees kicking, while Jongin tries to keep his incredulity off his face and keep his lunch down while the cruiser bobs up and down with wash from river cruise ships.

Two kinds of people choose Jongin. The first are the ones who've seen him dancing tend to go for the cocksucker lips and hip-rolls, the ones who expect him to show up ready to have his shirt ripped off and have them spray over his face. They like to have him once, so that they can come back next time with their friends and whisper about how he had looked with his arms bent back beneath them. And then there's the ones who pick him from the photobook and expect him to play the shy virgin, the ones who want to gently open him up to "love," or the ones who look forward to sullying his assumed "innocence". His favourite is the one who likes to tease him until he blushes, because it only makes his complexion darker. His only other regular is a straight up jerk.

Park is a regular on the books at SM, though Jongin's never seen him in the crowd around the stage while Jongin was dancing. He's guessing that's because Park can't be trusted to dress himself appropriately. He'd picked Jongin up at the station in a camo-print hoodie over a baseball cap that flattened the waves permed into his hair, white jeans that showed he at least knew how to shop to fit those long long legs even if his taste was appalling. Under the hoodie, as Jongin found out, Park wears a demin shirt, a denim shirt buttoned up all the way with a necktie, no less, which makes him look like a nerd on a date and makes Jongin look under-dressed.

Jongin's dressed for big money river boating, white and stripes, because that's what Park had requested, huge potential damages deposit and all. He might not have grown up with money, but the sort of kids whose parents sent them to barre usually were. Those days are another lifetime again now, but Jongin learnt early how to fake it. The most important thing was faking not giving a shit when he got things wrong, because nothing was wrong if you had enough money. But he'd dressed for the boat because people who pay their friends by the hour don't usually want those friends getting things wrong, and because Junmyeon will kill Jongin if he manages to piss off one of Baekhyun's regulars. 

Everyone loves Baekhyun. He's practically one of the newest recruits, and he already has more regulars than he knows what to do with and a booking calendar six months in advance. And right now, Baekhyun is in some villa on a lake with that tall arrogant Chinese regular of his. He'd shown up in Seoul a week early demanding exclusive availability, leaving Junmyeon scrambling to find suitable replacement "friends" for all the other bookings. (Jongin wonders if Baekhyun has a thing for tall guys with weird faces, or maybe it was vice versa?)

And somehow, Park had chosen Jongin, and every minute more with Park is making Jongin wonder why. Park hasn't seen him dance. Park should be a photobook client, and Jongin should have his pants around his ankles, bent over one of those leather upholstered benches inside the cabin. Baekhyun had made it sound like Park was normal. Baekhyun had been coy about what they did do, but he usually is; Jongin thinks he gets a kick out of making Jongin ask for details that will turn out to be way too much information, but Baekhyun is too professional to ever name names. But he'd promised that Park wouldn't ask Jongin to do anything "weird". Which given what Jongin knows about what Baekhyun's on the books as up for, probably isn't saying much. So far, Park hasn't done anything that would make Baekhyun a liar, but that would be difficult when he hasn't asked Jongin to do _anything_ at all.

Park stands up suddenly, and so does Jongin, because Park's a giant and standing up puts his crotch pretty close to level with Jongin's eyes. "Let's go for a ride," he says, and he grabs Jongin's wrist. About time, Jongin thinks to himself, his pleasant expression frozen on his face. 

Jongin likes dancing for tips better than he likes taking dates, because "Kai" is damn, damn good at dancing for tips, and because when he's dancing, he feels like he's got control of who hooks their fingers through his waistband. He's got the stage and security, and the men in the crowd can hold up all the won they want but it's Jongin who decides to step closer. 

Park's big, hot, sweaty hand around Jongin's wrist doesn't feel like a choice, but Park finally, _finally_ wanting to touch makes Jongin's skin crawl that little bit less. Even for someone like Jongin, tips don't bring in as much as things like this.

Park is walking with his head half-turned, swaying with the movement of the boat and dragging Jongin with him, forward and back. He's still talking, about what Jongin has no idea because all his concentration is internal; Jongin grunts at what he hopes are appropriate intervals. Maybe Park has grown up boating on Sundays and holidays on the water, but Jongin hasn't, and that's something he's more aware of with every passing moment. His balance is excellent, but only on dry land, not like this, where the floor shifts to another unsteady angle with every step.

Jongin is suddenly struck by the vivid image of throwing up onto one of the boat's expensive, creamy leather benches, or worse, onto Park, and then it's all he can do to keep his rice down.

But, no, Park is taking them up where the controls are, not down where the bunks are. He is explaining the controls as his fingers flick switches and turn knobs, words words words, way too easy, way too fast and way too sure. Jongin is staring at the line where the river meets the city, because it doesn't waver as much as the floor of the boat. 

"Back to the marina?" he asks. It's too early for Park to plan to leave Jongin on the docks, but they could be moving this somewhere else. 

Or maybe that's too much to hope for.

"What? No, I thought we're done with lunch," Park says, grinning out onto the water as he spins the wheel. "Why not take this baby for a spin?"

Jongin grips the railing in his hands as tight as he forces his stomach to hold its contents. 

Park shouts every time the boat jets over the wake of another, loud whoops and cries of delight that make the manic grin he has been constantly wearing into something less flashy that could be called cute if Jongin were feeling charitable. Park's got the money rather than vice versa, but with a face like that, he could be slumming it on Jongin's side of the transaction, no problem. 

He could dislike Park more if he thought Park was doing this on purpose, revving the engine to make Jongin's stomach jump and drop with the boat. But Park's just a puppy, big eyes and big ears and big teeth. When he turns back to Jongin, in the moment before the wind blows his bleached, permed hair into his face, Park only looks happy.

Maybe he'd get along with Park if they'd met some other way, in some other circumstances where Park picked Jongin out of a book and handed over cold hard cash to have him delivered to the marina this afternoon. Maybe if they were friends, Jongin would put his hand on Park's sleeve and tug, because friends don't make their friends puke. Not without more alcohol involved.

But Park is the client, and if Park wants to take them for a spin, then _Kai_ will just have to grin and bear it like the seasoned professional he is. Jongin settles for a grimace, because that means he doesn't have to open his mouth.

That resolution lasts ten minutes tops.

The engine splutters to a halt, but that just makes the boat sway like it's going to knock over. Jongin's hands slip on the rail, wet from when he tried to keep the flood back with just his bare hands. He managed to turn away from Park, to point his face over the side moments before he lost all control of his throat. He shuts his eyes, because there's puddle on the lower landing and it's hard to look anywhere else.

The worst part is the smell.

No, the worst part is his body completely out of control, Jongin's thighs shaking to support him, that his goddamn legs don't work, and the long moments of panicked waiting, his stomach demanding surrender and Jongin hurting enough to finally, shamefully give in. When you're drunk, Jongin thinks, somehow the stomach cramps don't hurt this much.

When the next bout hits, Jongin is past caring that Park's back up here with him. He doesn't care that Park's standing close behind him, his knees pressing into the tense backs of Jongin's thighs. That just means Jongin's not going to collapse the way he's so afraid he will. Park's hand moving over Jongin's belly is one of the least awful awful parts of this. Jongin hates that he knows so well how to deliberately relax his throat.

His lunch comes up again, hurtling up his throat and something more solid that the rest catches behind his teeth. Jongin has to lick the lump onto his tongue and spit it out onto the deck. 

The worst part is that Jongin tried. The worst part is that he's a fantastic dancer and a terrible whore. He can't smile at anyone like his roommate. He can't make anyone smile at him like Baekhyun. The worst part is that even though Park doesn't seem like a jerk, it's going to be his word against Jongin's what went down today (what came up?) and Jongin is the worst liar he knows. 

The worst part is that Jongin let himself hope that he'd finally be able to tell Lu Han that he could cover a full equal share of his rent this month. Giving up on that is more sour than anything that's just been forced up from his stomach.

"Are you ok?" Park asks. 

"I am not blowing you." Jongin's voice is gravelly, lower because of how stripped raw his throat is right now. His eyes sting, thin, cold trails down his cheeks. "I am not fucking you. You are not fucking me," he says, not sure how far he can trust Park's capitulations or the rapidly compliant jerks of his head. 

"I don't want you to," Park says, wide-eyed, terrified, and so like a puppy that Jongin wants to comfort _him_. "I'm in love with Baekhyun."

Of course he is. 

"I'm sorry," Park says. "I just like going fast. I thought it would be fun. For both of us."

Jongin says nothing. He's already said enough.

Jongin still hasn't washed his mouth out, the taste cloying and inescapable even as he tries his best to breathe only through his mouth. He is on a boat in the middle of the river, with the next ninety minutes of his life bought and paid for by someone who has watched Jongin lose his lunch over the rail and just confessed his love for one of Jongin's co-workers. He's not sure what part of this is most fucked up.

He lets Park help him down from the controls, and he lets Park set him on the soft, leather benches inside the cabin. He lets Park bring him another drink and a blanket he lets Park tuck around Jongin's shoulders.

The smell, even if it's only in his head, still makes Jongin's nose wrinkle and his throat begin to seize up tight. He takes small sips, as small as possible, and though the warm, flat soda washes back up, once, over the burning back of his throat, it rises no further.

Park eventually comes back, and he sits next to Jongin. But that's the worst of it. From before, Jongin wouldn't have expected that Park knew how to shut up, but he does, and they just sit there for a long while in silence as Jongin nurses his remaining nausea with soda.

Jongin doesn't look at his watch. It's not classy to check the time on a date. But, eventually, Park suggests that he might take the boat back in, if Jongin's feeling well enough.

Nothing Jongin could feel would ever make him not want Park to take back the boat. 

Park says he can stay down there, if he wants. Jongin follows him up. It's not so bad going back, going steady instead of the sharp turns and jumps from before; Jongin hasn't got anything solid left in him, anyway.

He has had however long they sat in the cabin, and however long it takes Park to get the boat into port to think about what to say now. Words are not his strength. Words have never been his strength, but he's got a face and abs that usually compensate for that. Unfortunately, they're also something that Park seems like he couldn't care less about. But rent's due at the end of the week, and he saw Taemin yesterday. 

Jongin's backpack has an envelope inside it, and in the envelope there's a thick wad of cash. Most of that is SM's cut. All of Jongin's sticker price, because whatever Park pays, it has nothing to do with Jongin's salary. But a regular would know well enough to pad that out with a tip, though Jongin's not going to know how much until he gets off the boat. Baekhyun promised Jongin that Chanyeol tips really well, though Jongin is guessing that may be special circumstances at this point. Whatever's extra, that's what Jongin's got to bargain with. That, and his body.

When Park lopes back onto the boat after he's tied off the ropes, Jongin's run out of time.

"What do I have to do," he asks, leaning back against the railing, oh god, trying to look sultry instead of nauseous, fuck fuck fuck. 

Park cocks his head to the side, like he really is some dumb dog. Maybe Jongin's life would be easier if all Park wanted was hour-long belly rubs. At least it would be easier then to figure out what Park wants.

"To keep you from complaining to my boss?"

"I wanted someone to come out with me on the boat, and you did that," Park says. "I didn't want-- I don't want, you know, the other stuff."

Jongin is not watching someone older than he is blush rather than talk about what Jongin does for a living. He's just not. 

Park can't be this chaste with Baekhyun. Baekhyun doesn't name names, but he would have let it slip if some rich kid was paying him just to hang out, eat picnics and laugh at Park's stupid jokes. Wouldn't he?

Though, come to think about it, Baekhyun would probably find them funnier than Jongin does.

"I always see Baekhyun on Tuesdays," Park says. "I'd already asked my father to borrow the boat when Baekhyun rang on Sunday to say he-- couldn't, this week. So, you don't know what he's, uh, doing today?"

It suddenly clicks for Jongin what this so-called date is about. He's not sure why Baekhyun rang to discuss Park with him, but what Park is after is suddenly crystal clear. "This is a job," Jongin says. "What we do."

"I guess you can't say anything, huh?"

Well, no, of course not. SM are expensive because they guarantee clean, confidential companionship. You don't talk to clients about other clients. You don't leave clients without their goddamn happy ending, either, and how fucked up is Jongin's life that he's almost wishing Park just wanted to get blown.

"Whatever Baekhyun's doing right now, that's a job, too," Jongin says, and Park is apparently not so stupid not to figure out that Baekhyun's Tuesdays have always been a job for him because his smile freezes on his face like someone just hit him.

No, no, no. That's not what Jongin wants. Jongin wants to leave a happy client. Happy is what he's being paid for. Happy Park Chanyeol is who is going to help Jongin pay his rent this month in full.

"You should tell him you like him," he says.

"Do you think he likes me?" Park asks, brightening immediately. "He did ring me up himself to cancel, so maybe..."

"I have no idea." 

Jongin doesn't and more than that, he doesn't want to play twenty questions special let's figure out what's up with Baekhyun edition. Even if you like someone-- however much you like someone-- Jongin knows some conversations are hard with money on the table between you. He knows that way too well.

"That's why you should tell him. To find out."

And that is thankfully, finally, exactly what Jongin needs to say to get that Park's smile back, the one he had out on the water when the boat was skimming so fast. It's also the one that means Jongin gets off the boat without opening his backpack, not until he's buckled in safe to the company car that pulled into the marina to collect him. 

The big envelope Park gave him when he first got on board has two envelopes inside. The fat one he gives to the driver, because he was never taking that money home. But what's inside the other envelope makes Jongin's stomach turn over again. He's not good with numbers, either, but this is-- this is a lot.

On the drive back into the city, he texts Junmyeon to check in. He texts Baekhyun a heads-up. And he texts Lu Han that, whenever he gets in tomorrow morning, he's buying him breakfast. Lu Han texts him back a love heart, and tomorrow, Jongin's finally going ask him what that means.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also comment on my [LJ](http://threewalls.livejournal.com/362498.html) or my [DW](http://threewalls.dreamwidth.org/222997.html).


End file.
